HOW, WHAT WITH ONE THING AND ANOTHER, IT REALLY IS A MERCY THAT I
WAS NOT IN MY GRAVE LONG AGO.
“For there’s nae luck about the house,
There’s nae luck at a’,
There’s little pleasure in the house,” &c.
“THERE’S NAE LUCK ABOUT THE HOUSE.”
Positively I was no sooner out of one scrape, than, as sure as the next
day came round, I was safe to be in another. The beauty of it was, too,
that my unlucky stars (and having been born under Saturn, the reader may
well imagine that I’ve had no very pleasant time of it) seemed
determined I should invariably be the victim of other people’s
misdemeanours. For I always thought that that old quack of a Mrs. Yapp
would be the death of some of us, with her filthy medicines, and so she
nearly was--indeed, it’s quite a mercy that the whole house wasn’t dead
and buried long ago.
I think I mentioned somewhere before, that the old hen had got four
hundred a year, but positively, if it had only been five-and-twenty,
she couldn’t have been stingier than she was. I never knew her give a
penny away to a soul, and as for making any present to my dear little
Kitty-pitty, bless you, not even so much as a mere six-and-sixpenny
coral and bells did she give the angel, and which I thought was the very
least she could have done, after we had been keeping her in the handsome
way we had, without expecting the least return for it. If she could save
a farthing she would walk her legs off; indeed, I’ve known her go miles
just to get a thing a halfpenny a pound cheaper, though she must have
worn out at least sixpenny-worth of shoe leather in the journey.
Well, in one of her rambles after bargains, the old thing had stumbled
upon a little poking hole of an out-of-the-way chemist’s shop, with a
bill in the window, announcing that _they_ (pretty they!) were now
selling _their_ best Epsom salts at the low price of seven pounds a
shilling; and as my lady was in the habit of paying twopence and
threepence for every pound weight of the stuff she swallowed, why this
was a temptation that she could not resist; so she must needs go
prancing into the shop, saying she would take one pound just to try.
The old thing came home to dinner, quite full of her bargain, and she
would undo the parcel, and show us what a beautiful quality the stuff
was; declaring, that if it only turned out as good as she expected, she
would buy all there was in the place, for they were so cheap, she said,
that she felt perfectly satisfied they must have been stolen,--and
promising herself a couple of ounces of it, by way of a nice treat in
the morning.
At breakfast, the next day, she told us that it seemed as if some
superior power had led her to buy her salts yesterday; for she had just
heard from Susan that the small-pox had already reached the next door
but one, and she had no doubt that it would be our turn next. Then she
went on so dreadfully about it, and we all got so terribly alarmed, that
we were ready to do anything--for she kept dinning in our ears, that
vaccination was only good for seven years, and that the only chance we
had of escaping it, and preventing our faces being pitted all over like
a honeycomb, was to sweeten our blood with a little cooling medicine,
and that really a spoonful or two of her salts all round was just the
very thing we wanted. Edward too seemed to take a delight in aggravating
the horrors of the disease, and exaggerating the virtues of the remedy
which Mrs. Yapp had prescribed for us, and kept on until at last we did
as she wished, and swallowed a couple of spoonfuls each. After which I
had Miss Susan up, and made her take some, as well, for I had no idea of
having her laid up in the house, and paying, goodness knows what amount,
in doctor’s bills for her. But she was too much afraid of her complexion
and beauty being spoiled to require much persuasion.
Edward had gone to chambers when dear mother, who was reading the
advertisements in the _Times_, gave a loud scream, and cried out, “We
are all poisoned!” And sure enough she showed me an advertisement at the
top of the second column in the first page, headed CAUTION, and running
as follows:--
“The stout, elderly Lady, with tortoiseshell spectacles, and
dressed in a black straw bonnet, trimmed with canary ribbon, with a
small squirrel tippet, and a black German velvet gown, is earnestly
requested not to take any of the pound of Salts she bought at the
Chemist’s in M--nm--th Str--t, S--v--n D--ls, and said she would
have more if she liked them, as through the mistake of an
inexperienced apprentice, she was served with Oxalic Acid instead.”
No one can imagine the dreadful state this threw us all into, and it was
as much as I could do to prevent mother from flying at Mrs. Yapp and
tearing her to pieces, limb by limb, on the spot; only I said that she
had much better turn her thoughts to some antidote, and leave the
wretched old woman to her own dreadful feelings. Whereupon, dear mother
merely called her a murderess some half-dozen times, and gave her to
understand, that even if she was lucky enough, to get over it, as sure
as their names were Yapp and B--ff--n, she would have her hung for it.
The old cat, however, told her not to talk in that foolish way--as she
had done it all for the best--but to see about taking as much chalk or
lime as we possibly could, as that was the only thing that could save
us. And then I declare if the old thing didn’t seize hold of the fire
shovel with one hand, and a plate off the breakfast table with the
other, and jumping up on a chair, began scraping away at my beautiful
ceiling, whilst I ran down-stairs, and, telling Susan what had happened,
and what Mrs. Yapp had prescribed as an antidote, we both of us made a
rush at the plaster of Paris images that the girl had stuck up over the
mantelpiece; and whilst she was devouring her beautiful painted parrot,
I eat Napoleon Bonaparte all but his boots.
Dear mother, who wouldn’t believe in anything that Mrs. Yapp said,
declared that nothing would do her good but candles, and the poor dear
soul had got through a whole rushlight and the better part of a long
six, by the time that Mrs. Toosypegs (whom I had packed off in a cab to
our doctor, and the chemist who had sold Mrs. Yapp the poison, and for
Edward) got back to us again, bringing the chemist himself with her, and
who said he was happy to inform us that it was all a mistake, and that
the packet of oxalic acid, which they had fancied the young man had
served the lady in tortoiseshell spectacles with, had been found, and
that we had taken nothing but the very best Epsom salts after all.
Edward came rushing in shortly afterwards; and when he heard that it had
only been a false alarm, I declare if he didn’t fall down on the sofa,
and nearly split his sides; which made us all so wild, that I really
felt as if I could have boxed the ears of the unfeeling monster; and I
know for a positive fact that dear mother’s hands were itching to do it
as well. As it was, the good old soul rated him soundly; for not being
able to contain herself, she flew out at him, and told him that he ought
to be ashamed of himself to lie there, as he was, chuckling over the
distresses of the very woman whom he had sworn to love and cherish in
sickness as well as in health--to say nothing of herself, who was my
mother--and that at a time, too, when he ought to go down on his bended
knees, and thank his stars for our miraculous escape. But Edward only
grinned the more, and kept telling her that it was as good fun as the
Derby-day, and that he had never known such capital sport after the
Epsom Cup before.
This was too much for my beloved parent; and she didn’t hesitate to tell
him that she wouldn’t stop in the house another minute; and, after his
inhuman, and, she might say, ungentlemanly conduct, would never set foot
in it again so long as she lived. And accordingly, out of the room she
bounced, and up-stairs she went, and having packed up her things, off
she took herself.
Directly Edward found how well he had got rid of dear mother, he began
to see what he could do with Mrs. Yapp. But though he said all kinds of
sharp, cutting things to her, still it was no good, for she hadn’t got
mother’s fine spirit, and really seemed to be as hard to get out of the
house as black beetles are. However, at one time, he did make her say,
that directly she learnt that her house in the country was fit to
receive her, and the smell of the paint was fairly out of it, she would
not trouble us any more with her company.
When at night I talked over the circumstances with Edward, I could not
help confessing to him, I was far from sorry that dear mother had left,
and that there was a prospect of Mrs. Yapp doing the same shortly--for,
what with one and the other, they so tormented poor Susan, that I
declare it was one round of noises from morning till night. First Mrs.
Yapp would come to me, saying, that Susan had insulted her in a most
disrespectful manner; and then Mrs. B--ff--n would march up to tell me
that she couldn’t get Susan to do a thing for her. And after that I
should have Mrs. Toosypegs come tearing up to say, that Susan had had
the impudence to assert that the kitchen was no place of hers; and
lastly, up would come Miss Susan herself, to know who was her
Missus--and whether it was Mrs. Yapp, Mrs. B--ff--n, Mrs. Toosypegs, or
myself; and declaring that it was more than one pair of hands could do
to attend to the whole of them. So as Mrs. B--ff--n had gone, and Mrs.
Toosypegs was going on the morrow, and Mrs. Yapp had threatened to go in
a few days, why, thank heavens, there seemed to be a chance of some
peace and comfort at last.
The day after Mrs. Toosypegs had left, Susan came to ask me whether it
would be convenient for me to let her have a holiday on the morrow, and
as I had been stupid enough to promise her one for getting rid of the
strange child in the clever way she had, I didn’t see how I could well
refuse, and consented to let her have one accordingly.
On the morrow, hearing my lady come down-stairs, I went to the window to
see how she looked; for I felt certain that she would be dressed out to
death. Sure enough, there she was, with at least six flounces to her
skirt, and a black trumpery imitation blond lace bonnet, with a lot of
bright red flowers stuck all about it, and what I would stake my
[Illustration: “_Going out for a Holiday._”]
existence was Mrs. Yapp’s green silk parasol--for I knew it by the
carved ivory handle; as she had over and over again told me, the stick
of it had been presented her by an old flame of hers, who was the third
officer of an East Indiaman.
However, as it wasn’t my parasol, of course I had got nothing to do with
it, and I had had quite hubbub enough in the house, without going making
any more noises about such a trumpery affair as that. Besides, if the
woman couldn’t spare time enough to look after her own things, why, I
wasn’t going to do it for her; and she had no right to go out for the
day as she had that morning, leaving her drawers open as a temptation to
the poor girl.
The day afterwards, I thought something was in the wind, for Miss Susan
came to me all of a fluster, and said that she should feel obliged if I
would let her have ten shillings in advance. I however very properly
gave her to understand that, as she had already had one pound fifteen on
account of her next quarter, I shouldn’t do anything of the kind, adding
that it really was astonishing to me what on earth she did with all her
money.
Miss Susan seemed to be dreadfully put out by my refusal, (and well the
wicked puss might, from what came out afterwards) for one evening,
Edward had just got home from chambers, when he met a man on the door
step, and on asking him what he wanted, he said that he wished to speak
with the lady who owned the parasol he had brought with him, and which
Edward knew very well belonged to Mrs. Yapp. So, when I opened the door,
my husband asked the man to step into the parlour, and finding Mrs. Yapp
there, told him that that was the lady he wanted. Whereupon the man said
he was the head waiter of the Chalk Farm Tavern, and had brought home
the parasol that she had left with his missus, on account of her not
having money enough to pay the whole of the bill she had incurred when
she was there with a life-guardsman. Mrs. Yapp blushed a bright orange
right up to her eyes, (for it was impossible for her bilious complexion
to blush crimson,) and said that it certainly was her parasol, but how
it ever came into the man’s possession she wouldn’t attempt to say; for
as to her ever having been inside a tavern with a life-guardsman, it was
an abominable, wicked falsehood, that it was, and the man was a
scoundrel to dare to come there and try to extort money from her under
any such shameful pretences.
I declare I could hardly smother my laughter with my
pocket-handkerchief, for, as I whispered in Edward’s ear, it was Susan,
I knew, that had been running up the bill there with that vagabond, Ned
Twist, and that two or three days before I had seen her going out with
that very parasol, I could see Edward was determined to have a bit of
fun, for, with a wicked smile, he asked the man whether there might not
be some mistake, for Mrs. Yapp was a highly respectable lady, and he
could not bring himself to believe that she would, at her time of life,
go keeping company with a life-guardsman. But the man said, “What
mistake can there be?--didn’t the lady acknowledge that the parasol was
hers?--and how should I have known where the owner of it lived, if she
hadn’t at the time given her address. But of course she wont acknowledge
it, because I’ve mentioned it before company; though I’ll be bound, that
if I had seen her alone, she would have recollected all about it pretty
quickly; still it’s useless her trying to get out of it; for there’s the
bill, and if she’ll look at it, she’ll see what she had, and that there
was five shillings paid, and a matter of two and threepence left owing,
and that’s what I want; and if I don’t get it, I shall take the parasol
back--that’s all.” And the man handed Mrs. Yapp the account, who threw
it back upon the table.
“I don’t want to see your bill, sir,” she cried. “It’s all a shameful
imposition, and you know it is; and what’s more, if you don’t give me up
my parasol this minute, I shall appeal to Mr. Sk--n--st--n to make you.
I never heard of such a thing, in all my life, coming here and taking
away a respectable woman’s character, in the hopes of getting a trumpery
two and threepence. Did you see me at your ‘Chalk Farm,’ as you call it,
sir?”
“No,” replied the man; “but the waiter that served you did, and so did
missus; and she said, you were with Ned Twist,--and he’s very well known
to us, for he brings more business to our house than any other man in
the regiment,--and if it hadn’t been for fear of losing _his_ custom, we
shouldn’t have trusted _you_.”
“Well, my good man,” said my husband, with a roguish grin, “as you’re so
positive, I’d better pay you the money, rather than have any disturbance
about such an unpleasant business.” And Edward having done so, the man
left, when Mrs. Yapp flew out in a most dreadful way, and declared,
that Edward ought to be ashamed of himself for encouraging the man in
the way he did, and going on as if he really believed what the villain
had said. But Edward just put it to her, as a woman of the world, to say
whether he could have done otherwise, when the facts of the case were so
very strong against her; in all of which I of course agreed. And I
declare it _was_ such capital fun to see how she went on, when Edward
took up the bill, and began reading it aloud as follows:--
s. d.
4 Glasses of Rum and Water 2 0
3 Screws and a Pipe 0 3
2 Teas, with Shrimps 2 6
A small Glass of White Wine Negus, and Biscuits 1 0
1 Bottle of Lemonade 0 3
Ditto Soda with Brandy 0 9
3 Cheroots 0 6
--------
7 3
By Cash 5 0
--------
By Parasol 2 3
--------
Then Edward kept remarking upon the different items, saying that it was
very easy to see what was for Mr. Ned Twist, and what was for the
lady--whoever it might be that accompanied him. And really and truly, if
it was his dear mother-in-law, and she had been foolish enough to go
falling in love with any of those good-looking dogs at the barracks, he
didn’t see that there was any necessity for concealing her passion; for
if the man were respectable, why, he should be very happy to see him,
and question him as to whether his intentions were honourable towards
her. It would have done any one’s heart as much good as it did mine to
see how angry this made the poor bilious old lady, who, all the time
that Edward was teasing her, was biting her lips, and shaking her leg up
and down with downright passion, while she pretended to be very busy
reading a book--(I never saw such reading)--until at last her nasty bile
got the better of her, and would not allow her to stand a joke; for,
declaring that she would leave the house the very next day, she bounced
out of the room, slamming the door after her as hard as she could, till
she made all the glasses on the sideboard jingle again, and up she went
sulking to her room, where she stopped, and wouldn’t come down to
dinner, nor allow us to send any up to her--as if she thought that would
hurt us--a stupid old toad! All this, I said to myself, comes of having
people in the house who must go getting angry over a mere joke.
I told Edward that, as she had declared she would go on the morrow, and
Susan told me that she really was packing up her things in real earnest,
he might as well go up and tell her that he had only meant what he said
in fun, and get her to come down to tea; or else, perhaps, what with her
passion, and starving herself, she might be laid up before she left our
house with a bilious fever. But he wouldn’t think of doing anything half
so rash, he said, adding, that it would be quite time enough to
apologize as soon as she should be dressed ready to go on the morrow.
Next day, Edward wouldn’t go down to chambers, for fear, as he said,
that I should go playing the fool, and making it up with Mrs. Yapp.
Knowing that she was going by the one o’clock coach, I got a nice little
luncheon ready for her (just a few sandwiches cut from the lean part of
the silver side of a round of beef, between some digestive bread); and
when she came down to wish us good-bye, Edward told her he was sorry
that she had taken in earnest what he only intended in joke--and I
confessed that I knew it was Susan who had taken her parasol all the
while, saying I was sure that if anything similar had occurred to me, I
shouldn’t allow so slight a thing as that to ruffle my temper; and that
I trusted she wouldn’t think of leaving us so soon--though I really was
afraid of pressing her too much, for fear she might think I meant what I
said. So, after a little coaxing, we got her to sit down and take a
mouthful with us, telling her that Susan should run out to get her a
coach, and I would slip on my things and go down with her to the
coach-office, and see her off with a great deal of pleasure.
While we were waiting for Susan to come with the coach, there was a ring
at the door, and, when I opened it, it was a man who said that he had
brought his bill for the tobacco, and which he said he should feel
obliged if I would settle. So I showed him in to Edward, as the only
person in the house that smoked. But no sooner did he get into the room
than he handed the bill to me, and said he believed I should find that
it was all correct, and when I looked at it I declare that it was
nothing more than a string of near upon twenty half-ounces of
“bird’s-eye returns.” So I asked Edward whether he knew anything about
it; but the man said it was for me. Whereupon I asked him what he meant;
and he had the impudence to persist in saying that I myself was the
party who had purchased it for----
“For whom?” I said, with great indignation.
The man put his finger up to his mouth, as much as to say “Mum” before
company.
“Say what you have to say, man,” I replied, “and don’t stand there
making any of your signs and signals to me.”
On this, he came as close as he dared to me, and keeping his eye fixed
on Edward, said, in a low whisper through the corner of his mouth--“You
know--for Ned Twist, the life-guardsman.”
I gave a loud scream, and flying to Edward, cried out--“Oh, Edward,
here’s a man says I owe him a bill for tobacco for that odious Ned
Twist, the life-guardsman!”
Edward went up to him directly, and told him that it must be the servant
that he wanted, and not myself, as I was his wife.
“Lord bless you!” replied the man, “as if I hadn’t seen the lady in my
shop, along with Ned Twist, scores and scores of times, in the very same
black velvet shawl that she’s got on now.”
I forgot what they said to each other after this, but I know they were
just getting to high words--for the impudent wretch would keep insisting
that it was I, and none other, who had purchased the tobacco of him for
Ned Twist; and I was expecting every moment that Edward would be
knocking him down, when, to my great joy, I heard Miss Susan come up in
the hackney-coach to the door, and I ran to it, and brought her into the
room. Then it turned out that all the time during my confinement that
minx, Miss Susan, had been in the habit of going out of an evening, two
or three times a week, dressed in my black velvet shawl, and running up
all kinds of debts for Mr. Ned Twist, all round the neighbourhood.
Of course, this was more than I could bear; so I just told Miss Susan
that she would please to provide herself with a new situation that day
month; and very luckily, her quarter would be just up then, or else I
should certainly have had to have packed her off with a good part of her
wages in advance.
The worst of it all was too, that Mrs. Yapp, although she had been
living under our roof, and feeding off the fat of the land at our table
for near upon a couple of months, must go insulting me before she left
our house, and repeated to me in a most tantalising and unladylike way,
all that I had said to her in the morning, about putting up with what
she was pleased to call a mere joke, and reminding me of what I had very
imprudently told her, that if I found a servant wearing my things, I
should not care so much about it, after all. So as I wasn’t going to put
up with her nasty taunts all the way down to the coach-office, I said I
felt very ill, and wasn’t in a fit state to go such a distance. Edward,
too, it struck me at the time, might have behaved himself with a little
more decency, for he would keep saying all kinds of unpleasant things,
and which I dare say, _he_ thought very clever indeed; but I couldn’t
see the point of them, though _Mrs. Yapp_ must go giggling at them, as
if they were the finest fun alive.
As for that Mr. Ned Twist, all I can say is, that if I could only have
caught him, I should have told him a bit of my mind; and, as it was, I
was as near as near could be, going round to the colonel of the
regiment, and telling him that he ought to be ashamed of himself, to
allow his men to go on in that way. For really there was some little
excuse to be made for that stupid, conceited, highty-flighty, bit of
goods of a Miss Susan of mine, for I’m sure the girl was head over ears
in love with the gawky fellow, while he was only playing the fool with
her. Every moment she could spare, there she was with a pen in her hand,
scribbling a letter off to him, or else with a needle, making some
shirts for the rip; and I declare, if she hadn’t gone to the expense of
having his portrait cut out in black paper, and had paid at least
eighteen pence extra for the sake of having the fellow’s mustachios and
whiskers put in with a little trumpery bronze. Whenever, too, the minx
could lay her hand upon any of my excellent jams or preserves, she would
be sure to go making them up into pies or tarts, or something for that
ogre of hers in a red coat; and once I found stowed away in the
dresser-drawer a raspberry-jam tart, (we had had a roley-poley pudding
for dinner the day before,) with a lot of open-work over it, and a small
heart made out of pastry, and the initials E. T. in the same elegant
material.
A little while after this, I declare there was no possibility of getting
that girl to do a single thing in the house, for it appears that
bothering regiment was about to change its quarters. And there she was,
sighing and crying away in secret, and going mooning about the place
with her eyes as red as two brandy-balls. When I stepped round to Albany
Street, to see Mrs. L--ckl--y, in the evening, she told me it was just
the same with her Maria--as, indeed, she said, it was with the maids all
down the street, on both sides of the way; and when I let fall, by
accident, the name of Ned Twist, she knew it directly, and told me she
verily believed the fellow supped in her kitchen twice a week at least.
Her maid was going clean out of her mind, she said, for his
sake--although she had told her, over and over again, that the fellow
didn’t care two pins about her; for she, Mrs. L--ckl--y, knew for a
positive fact that the good-looking glutton was all the while paying his
addresses to the girls at both the pastrycooks in the street, as well as
to the maid at the fruiterer’s over the way. Really, she said, there
wasn’t a female servant in the whole street that hadn’t been spoiling
her head of hair for the rogues, and she was sure that there would be as
many locks given away on the day of the fellows’ departure as would
stuff a decent-sized mattress; though how that general lover, Mr. Ned
Twist, would ever be able to find enough hair for the whole of his
sweethearts, was a mystery to her. For if he behaved to them all alike,
and gave a lock to each, there was no doubt the amiable villain would be
obliged to throw in his whiskers and mustachios, in order that the
supply might in any way be equal to the demand; while the good-looking
vagabond would be obliged to go about with nearly all his hair cut off,
like a French poodle, or else cropped as short as a knapsack.
When the day came for Susan to go, the poor girl had only a matter of
eight shillings to receive out of the whole of her quarter’s wages. And
Edward asked her how on earth she meant to live until she got a new
situation. Whereupon the wretched dupe burst into tears, and said she
was sure she couldn’t say; she had spent chief part of her earnings in
paying for tobacco and drink for Ned Twist; and had lent him seven
half-crowns; but she wouldn’t mind about that so much, only she had sent
two letters to him at Windsor, and he had never even answered them. And
what was worse than all, she had heard, since he left, that she wasn’t
the only girl who had been fool enough to believe what he said, and to
squander all her wages upon him; for she knew for a fact that in Albany
Street alone, he had borrowed several pounds, in small sums, from
different maids-of-all-work like herself, under the pretence of putting
up the banns.
“But, my poor girl,” said Edward, “what could ever have induced you to
believe the vagabond?”
“I can’t tell, sir,” sobbed Susan; “only he used to come of an evening,
and fill my head with a lot of stuff about honour and glory, and
bleeding for his country; and saying that whenever the trumpet sounded,
he would gladly die upon the battle-plain in defence of the maids of
merry England; and then he used to say that the soldier loved only three
things as dearly as his life--and they were, his country, his honour,
and his sweetheart--and ask me, who was so quick as the gallant Son of
Mars to protect a lovely and defenceless woman from the tyrant’s grasp.
So I couldn’t help thinking that he was one of the noblest men I ever
met, and after all his fine sayings, I never dreamt that he would go
borrowing my wages, and running away without paying me, and leaving me
perhaps to starve while I’m out of place; for what’s to become of me
now, goodness only knows.”
This tale affected us both so much, that we quite pitied the poor girl,
for I saw that it had been all along as I had expected; and upon my
word, the man was so handsome, that there was every allowance to be made
for our simple Susan. As I said before, and say again, Government ought
not to allow these men to have so much idle time on their hands as they
have, or else make it a rule, that if there must be soldiers, at any
rate, that they should be ugly ones; for her Majesty’s ministers ought
to know that the red coats and bright buttons alone are quite sufficient
to turn the heads of all the young girls, without the irresistible
aggravation of a handsome face, and a pair of black mustachios.
Edward, who I must allow, is blessed with a good heart of his own,
(though he has sometimes a strange way of showing it,) gave Susan a
sovereign, and I added to it a pair of my old black silk stockings,
(which cost me, I remember, as much as five and sixpence when they were
new,) and an old morning wrapper that I couldn’t wear any longer, and I
told her that, if at any time before she got into a situation, she chose
to come in and help my new maid, or nurse my little girl, she might
always rely upon having her dinner and tea in the house,--though I know
it’s foolish to be overkind to servants;--still as this was a case of
real charity, I felt that I couldn’t well do less, as I’m sure all my
readers will be ready to allow.
Though, after Susan had left me, I regret to say I found she was in no
way deserving of my sympathy; for when my butcher’s bill came in, I
discovered that she had been in the habit of getting things for that
gormandizing Don Giovanni of hers in the life-guards, and having them
put down to my account; for, as Mrs. L--ckl--y had given me to
understand, that Mr. Ned Twist--drat him!--was particularly partial to
bullock’s heart with veal stuffing, and that he would go through fire
and water any day to get it, I at once saw by the bill who had been
dining with Miss Susan every other day in the kitchen during my
confinement; for there it was, sure enough. Leg of mutton,
four-and-nine; bullock’s heart, one-and-three; fillet of veal,
six-and-two; bullock’s heart, one-and-three; ribs of beef,
five-and-seven; bullock’s heart, one-and-three; belly of pork,
three-and-one; bullock’s heart, one-and-three. And so it went on, right
down to the end of the chapter.